I look at my monochrome River Island shirt in the mirror; How can Nini subject me to this? Damn this ugly shirt I settled on wearing, after much deliberation and multiple wardrobe changes, I settled on my everyday black skirt and my river island monochrome print halter crop top. It is super hard to replicate Nini’s look, the heifer dresses like a freaking nun. I should be home snuggled in bed watching an Episode of Revenge or some ratchet TV show. But I’m here in a high rise oil servicing company, about to interview a mega rich oil tycoon with a name I have still not mastered.

My house mate/best friend – Nini is a reporter for TK Media and she has this interview scheduled, but her sister chooses today of all days to go into labor. Sigh… So being the overly nice friend that I am she begged me to come in her stead for the interview. I have never heard of this man before, which I find very disturbing because it is my job to know all the wealthy men in my city; Lagos.

Adebantu Richards is supposed to be a super-rich oil tycoon, with an overly private life and businesses in countries I can’t pronounce.

I fetch the notes Nini jotted for me, telling me about his early life and his businesses. Mainly surface details, what was she thinking? How am I going to look to this man? I had no prior knowledge as to his beginnings or his vast business achievements.

Damn Nini!

Damn Nini!

So I take in a deep breath and walk into the overly large and intimidating lobby. Behind the mahogany desk, is a blue eyed, (contact lenses) pink lipped receptionist with a short fringe… She looks like a grown Dora the Explorer. She is sitting in her chair anxiously tapping away at her Mac. I roll my eyes.

Me: I am here to see Mr. Richards, Yesmin Briggs from TK Media.

She looks up from the computer and places one of her bird-like fingers on her bottom lip. She looks at me from my shoes to my weave. Thank goodness I wore my Louboutins. And thank God they were real, a gift from a very dear friend, and not knock offs.

Grown Dora the Explorer: Oh, Give me one minute Miss Briggs. Have a seat.

She makes more loud clicking sounds on her keypad. Then she looks up from her screen.

Grown Dora the Explorer: We have a 10 am appointment for a Niniola Adeyemi not a Yesmin Briggs. Is this a mix up?

I am loosing my already over stretched patience.

Me: Miss Adeyemi called already to explain her absence.

She makes an uninterested sound, as she places a call and confirms my story.

She says: Okay take the elevator and press for the 15th floor.

Sigh…

All this stress.

I am such a good friend, there’s nothing I won’t do. As I reach the 15th floor, it’s like another building entirely. The floors are white, the furniture’s white, the art on the wall is white. Large maple wood desk with beige chairs in one corner. A big portrait of the new Ikoyi-Lekki Bridge hangs on the wall.

A receptionist here stands up from her desk. She is gorgeous, with legs that are so long they will not quit, the tiniest waist I’ve seen, tiny boobs like Canadian quarters and a pencil skirt shorter than Majek Fashek’s dreads.

She says: Hello Miss Briggs, walk straight right in. Mr. Richards will be with you shortly.

She directs me through a door. I smile and pull my hair behind my left ear.

I push open the door, as I hear the loud chords of SIA’s Chandelier… My phone is ringing.

Dammit!

What sort of reporter comes to an interview with her phone ringing out loud? I quickly try to locate the damn phone, I find it as I notice there’s nobody else in the office – it’s just me. I look up and say a quick prayer of thanks.

Me: Hello. This is not a good time, please call me ba…

Then it happens. That faint English accent…

Rex: Hi babe… It’s Rex. Why do you sound like a receptionist?

I laugh. Oh Rex…

Me: Long time no speak stranger…

He scoffs.

Rex: You took me off your bbm you little minx, I miss you.

I roll my eyes, now is not the time. My mind drifts to the weekend in Dubai we spent together. Luxury hotel, 12-hour long sex, the shopping spree, I got bored… I left.

Me: You started talking marriage Rex. I had no other option.

He makes a sound of disappointment or is that hurt?

Rex: I see… Where are you? Have you forgotten me so soon?

Sex with Rex. It was magical, probably the best I’ve ever had. He is so daring and adventurous – so handsome with a tongue that can do better things on my body than for speech. His head game is supreme! How can I forget him?

But he flipped the marriage card!

I am 21. How can I get married now?

Me: What do you want Rex?

This man is so needy. He is lucky he has money and can afford me, or else…

Rex: The way you treat me like shit turns me on, you know I can get any woman I want. But still I am here chasing you… Like a straying puppy. What did you do to me?

I feel my shoulders lifting high, a slow smile spreads across my face…

I wish I could take credit but I didn’t ‘do’ anything to him.

Me: Oh Rex, I have missed you too… My body misses you, my nipples too… They miss your nibbles and that thing you do with your tongue that literally gives me an orgasm. I miss how your finger parts my v***** lips when you’re hard and dripping, I miss how your fingers drive me to ecstasy.

He groans.

And then I hear someone clearing his throat. I turn around and jolt in shock and embarrassment. Before me is a Greek god – Zeus+Thor+Brad Pitt. Who is this man? Did he just hear all the naughty things I told Rex?

Rex: Baby? Baby? Are you there? Continue I wanna hear what I do to you…

This ode!

Me: Let me call you back Rex.

I quickly get off the phone and I want to formulate words of apology to this young man but my brain won’t let me.

I am speechless.

He looks at me with amusement in his eyes…

Is he Mr. Richard’s son? Or his PA?

Why is he dressed so casually? Unless…

He Says: Oh don’t stop on my account?

He says with mock amusement in his eyes, I am willing the ground to open up and swallow me…

Me: I am sorry Sir; that was very unprofessional. I am… I am… I am from TK, I am from TK Media sir, here for your boss Mr. Richards.

He cocks a brow and takes a seat at the desk and then as if he thinks better of sitting at his boss’s desk, he moves to seat on a seat beside the window, by a painting worth more than all I own.

He says: You’re Miss Niniola?

I finally regain a level of composure as I sit opposite him, pulling out Nini’s mini recorder, a note and pen; trying my hardest to look professional.

Where is his boss?

Me: I am Yesmin Briggs, representing Miss Niniola. Please I have an interview with your boss, can you fetch him?

He looks at me in utter disbelief, and beneath it all is that amusement… Why can’t he stop staring?

Who is this errand boy?

The leggy secretary walks into the office…

Leggy Secretary: Sir, the Durban office just called to confirm their shipment?

Who is she talking to?

I look at her, she is blushing! Why is she blushing?

They’re definitely straffing each other. Na wa o. I don’t have time for these games. So I turn on her.

The strange man is all cool and calm looking at me with his hand on his brow…

Me: Excuse me; please can I talk to Mr. Richards? I need to get his interview done and get back to my life.

She gasps.

She looks at me with her mouth hanging wide open in utter shock.

She says: You are a journalist you say?

I nod and roll my eyes.

Wait… Is he…?

Am I making a huge mistake?

He stands up from his chair.

He says: I am AdeBantu Richards, Miss Yesmin. We can start the interview as soon as Rex tells you what he wants to do with your clitoris…

He says, in a matter of fact tone…

You can read up follow up episodes on www.tushmagazine.com.ng